


pyrrhic

by ravenbranwyn



Series: RWBY [15]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbranwyn/pseuds/ravenbranwyn
Summary: Pyrrhic.Pyr·rhic, adjective: (of a victory) won at too great a cost to have been worthwhile for the victor.





	pyrrhic

Your name is Pyrrha Nikos, and this is how you die.

It is not how you imagined, in those brief moments when you did. It is not facing a Grimm that is  _ just  _ too powerful, trying to protect your hometown of Argus. It is not as a Huntress. No, your death is as a student, against a foe you should never have been asked to go up against. Your death will be at the hands of Cinder Fall. You always knew your final victory would be something pyrrhic, you knew it would end in your death, and that is why you do not cry.

Not as you kiss Jaune. Not as you approach the school. Not as you force the elevator to the top of Beacon. You do not waver in your mission. You know you will die here. It is your destiny.

As you fight, you think of your friends, your friends who taught you how to be a normal girl. You think of Jaune, of his bad jokes, of his silly nicknames, of the way he wants nothing more than to be a hero. You think of Ren and Nora, who never fully explained their pasts, but you sometimes catch them looking at one another when the other is not. You think of Weiss, and the way that she is possibly the only one who knew how you felt, coming here. You think of Blake and Yang, who seem complete opposites, but who work together better than any other partner-pair at the school. You think of Ruby, the youngest of your little group, the way she wants to be a normal girl. 

You fall before Cinder with an injured ankle and know this is the end. You do not think of begging for your life. She does not care that you and your friends were going to go out and eat after your fight tonight. She does not care that you were all going to bring Yang things to cheer her up. She does not care that you are seventeen years and ten months old and that your mother is waiting for you to come home.

Still, you do not cry.

You raise your gaze to hers and ask her, in a tone that does not waver, “Do you believe in destiny?” Her eyes glow but the fire does not flare around them. For a moment you entertain the idea that maybe you have weakened her.

“Yes.” Her arrow embeds itself in your chest. You faintly hear something off to your side. She sets her hand on the side of your head. You think you hear a scream.

This is your destiny.


End file.
